


Sojourn

by DankTempsey



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: Featuring the kids too!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DankTempsey/pseuds/DankTempsey
Summary: The little ones chased colorful bugs in the cool grass. Dew drops had already formed, clinging to their bright printed pajamas. Laughter acted as a beacon, it served as some form of hope in the darkness.Takeo looked at Nikolai, exhaling softly through his clenched teeth.





	Sojourn

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's your neighborhood friendly Dankerooni, delivering another fanfiction! 
> 
> As I have truly worked my hardest on this, please feel free to read, review and kudos me! It shows appreciation, and I appreciate it too!
> 
> -
> 
> There is a scene insinuating sexual intercourse, or just kissing, or whatever! Please know, this whole story is open to your own interpretation!
> 
> One of the last paragraphs of Monty talking, there is a random, weird break that I cannot fix, I know! And I'm sorry!
> 
> \- 
> 
> Enjoy!

Sojourn

 

 

Dusted down halls harbored leather coated books and groaning mahogany wood. Perpetual pine pressed against wide nostrils, tainting the cool redolence with bright forest miasma. There was no nausea or foul stench, though. The scent had just boasted itself about the house and around each and every corner. 

 

Besides the loud bouquets, it was fairly silent. Suede boots with nubuck bottoms danced across the ground, side to side, side to side. This seemed to be the only "appreciable tumult" around the safe, solace abode. Then some hums, the spit popping from a wide smile, and a crackling furnace. It was a thorny impression, but Richtofen hadn't yearned to ruin the stillness of the night. Edward was satisfactory with abiding to be worked over by the gentle hush; for once, his brimful heed stay close and dear to Dempsey.

 

He wouldn't say that the subsequent conversation forced the intimacy to perish, but it seemed to flirt with exactly that. 

 

"I'm always here to help you, I got your back. You know that don't you?"

 

Benign, he was. Dempsey was sincerely inclined with understanding and acknowledgement of their immediate environment. Parceling a domestic life in the company of your bygone self was quite a predicament. And a situation that really couldn't go unacknowledged. The two were glad to find out that Takeo and Nikolai went firefly catching with them an hour or so ago. 

 

"I do, and the same action is to be reciprocated, need it be possible for such a situation. But I'm sure a big brave American hero can do that for himself, can't he?"

 

This embrace was past due. Richtofen was grateful to receive one now, but he truly could've utilized this encouragement and affection long ago. Better now than never, he thought, pressing his mouth against the bare, freckle splotched shoulder. 

 

"Who knows," a tighter clasp secured Edward, his tone was smooth and yet so vehement, "but that doesn't mean I don't need your help." 

 

The fire sparks; an accidental ember flees from the furnace and onto the green carpet.

Richtofen nuzzled his forehead into Tank's neck.

 

"You're so important to me, I can't stress that enough, Richtofen."

 

Dempsey threw his shoulder forward gently, receiving Edward's attention once more. Hands raked gently at a pulsing chest, heart caught in his throat once more, as Edward was faced by the ambitious hero himself. It hurt to stare at a particularly phlegmatic individual; the same individual who Richtofen was deeply sweet and keen on. He wished he knew why the pain endured so, and for so long too.

 

"It's been a nice few days here. I'm glad you got to take care of yourself, actually eat something, take a shower and rest too, but," Tank's fingers adjusted on Edward's flushed cheeks. "it's high time I start taking care of you too."

 

Silk laundry waved in the air, crafting a dome of angelic tantrum. 

 

They kissed again.

 

Expressive altruism was gifted by sweet propelling. There's pulling, there's clawing, an indistinguishable need for more or for just palpable affection. Appellations and sobriquets ring in the air like church bells, the hot stuffy feeling becoming pure again and delightful.

 

Crying out in a bliss of attachment, it's so intense and very required. It returns to being zealous and composed. The heat is dying down, but actions refuse to. 

 

The final stretch of passion is released in great waves of shuddering awe. Glossy shells inhabit a moaning, rasping frame. 

 

Hands that were clasped previously, seemed gummed and epoxied together with moisture. They wouldn't let go at all; there was no desire to.

 

Inspiration was heavy, humid breaths rushed passed each other.

 

"Please," nearly sobbed Edward. "Please come closer."

 

No hesitation possessed Dempsey. All he coveted was to please his counter. Tank pressed down atop Edward, disrupting the still drops that soaked their breasts. Immediately, Richtofen clung to Dempsey. His heart was speeding; a vigorous pounding was domiciled in his chest. Awkward thuds in awkward tempos pressured him into breathing inefficiently. Tricky sentences of eldritch amity struggled on his tongue.

 

Comforting rapport was there for him―Dempsey caressed his face, pressing his lips gently in the crevices of Richtofen's neck and beside his ear. His hands stroke the sweaty skin too.

 

"I'm not going anywhere," an exhausted whisper said. "I'll never leave you."

 

Panic was hidden in that sentence; perhaps the only time Dempsey feared for his life. His attachment to Richtofen has grown so nicely. It wouldn't rest at all, maybe never. He's always revisiting this feeling, he didn't want to call it gross and be elementary of it. But that's what it was; this gross aching burrowed deep in his heart like a thick parasite, feeding on his content and manipulating him to regret endearment or distrust Edward.

 

And Tank loved it. For some reason, he couldn't live without that apprehension.

 

"We haven't... done this in so long, I'm so sorry." Richtofen chuckles nervously, his countenance resting into a beautiful smile. He returns the appreciative kissing, pressing his round mouth onto a broad, tan frame.

 

"No need to apologize, Richtofen," Tank tweaked their position and allowed the other above him. Edward rearranged nicely, mishap-ly smearing his face over Dempsey's body while delivering busses. So many different types of kisses on so many different freckles and spots. He smelled of aged body soap and ale from dinner, garlic licked his underarms and between the folds of his neck. Richtofen took a deep breath, drinking the clashing smells through his nostrils. He wondered what this specific scent was.

 

"I don't mind whenever we do, or if we don't."

"Do what?"

"Make... _love?_ "

 

There was great consensus occurring within his mind. Even the questionable tone was perceived as loving and sweet. _Making love_ , he thought. So ad rem and apt.

 

"I feel my emotion seems to be dwindling, nearly to the point where you hardly detect it at all," Richtofen groped for Tank's hand proceeding to kiss it and nurture it closely. "It's just these past months have been difficult. Extremely difficult, and I just claimed you as a distraction, but no―no, you're so much more than that."

 

Flames trembled within the hot crate of metal. Wood twisted and squeezed last second screams from the cracks, before transitioning to ash and chips. Hickory wood tinged the hot air sweetly, a smoky texture represented as the atmosphere.

 

"You're an aid to this cause and to these universes. Risking life and limb, I don't know how to thank you, honestly."

"Don't thank me yet, doctor. We still have a while to go."

 

Richtofen cooed as Dempsey took his thumbs and rolled them in circles onto the other's damp face; his cool fingers casually wrote affection upon the cheek.

 

"Even if so, I feel as if an apology and gratitude is long over due. You've done so much for me―for the team. It's not a waste of breath to give what's rightfully needed."

 

Tank spins his eyes, tugging the large quilt above their heads. Edward was brisk to cower underneath and sink down into the golden sheets, as the rotund chest stay above him.

 

There were no more words on the doctor's end, except for a few gasps from bewilderment of Tank's current fondness and besotted nature. 

 

 _It must be another form of making love,_ opined Richtofen. And all Dempsey had to do was carve tender and friendly locution upon his partner's skin, necking it with his round lips soon afterwards.

 

Edward was making more than just notes out of what Dempsey had to say. An absolute must of forgotten worship gushed from his lips suddenly, more love than forgiveness, more fragments of how smitten he was than how thankful he had been.

 

Crisp laughter met with the air. A loud howl of energy burst from the black, pilose chest. Then a snort. And a giggle. Another ejection of liveliness sprung to life, as Dempsey chuckled and wheezed at his partner's own. 

 

He wasn't sure why and how it slipped, but it was jovial when it did anyways.

 

"I love you, Edward."

 

A cheerful indifference. A friendly statement. A four worded phrase that would stick to Edward's mind for an eternity. It was clear, now, that the rivalry was gone; the endless torture of competition and hope to dominate the other in smarts over strength, or strength over smarts.

 

He didn't really need to say it back. It was embarrassingly clear that it was reciprocated. For the time being, since it was truly the first time it was said and meant by Tank, Richtofen decided to mutter a sheepish "I love you too" before grasping his face and holding it ever so dearly.

 

 

 

_×_

 

 

The little ones chased colorful bugs in the cool grass. Dew drops had already formed, clinging to their bright printed pajamas. Laughter acted as a beacon, it served as some form of hope in the darkness.

 

Takeo looked at Nikolai, exhaling softly through his clenched teeth.

 

"This stay seems far too superior. I wonder if tomorrow is the day of reckoning, the day our truths spill as one."

 

A breeze flushed over the house, Nikolai's unkempt hair tousled in the fair wind. He glances at Takeo, and drank in the warm sight of the humble and neurotic man.

 

"Takeo, you seem uneasy, so tense. Take a look around you, this might be our last area of comfort, of true peace. Don't take it for granted. Use this time to reassess, Takeo, worry not. We are safe here."

 

The children frolic happily, crying out joyful phrases whilst dancing around. Fireflies glisten and flutter elegantly through the air, ascending higher then lower then higher again.

 

"The children," speaks Takeo, eyes dim with worry yet weighted with care, "I fear of their injury. I hope to see exultant outcome for them. They deserve more than this―their _innocence_ deserves more."

 

Nikolai agreed. His hands rested on his portly belly, while he nudged the other on the shoulder with kindred spirit.

 

There was a calming hush. A small creek nearby echoed it's hiss throughout the neighborhood of one. The children remain still, laying in the grass and pointing towards the glow of the beacons in the night sky, lightyears away.

 

Belinski sighed, looking to the heavens. Still celestial bodies beckoned their luster out to the universe. For some reason, he desired to reach out and grab one. He's conquered a dragon, held a staff filled with ice, and slaughtered the undead for years. Why would grabbing a star be any different or weird.

 

"Nikolai."

 

Startled, he shifted his gaze over to Takeo. There was something innermost about him now; his black hair fell like a waterfall down past his shoulders, roasted umber eyes crumbled in defeat of posing, his lips trembling as years worth of questions begged on the tip of his tongue.

 

"Do you believe in a greater force? One that is in the service of how our futures turn out?"

 

Nikolai believed in God. Well, sort of. Not really... There was no telling what to believe in from all this occuring. Nikolai chuckled, shuffling his fingers throughout his locks of brown.

 

"Perhaps Takeo, eh... I don't know. There is much happening now, though I do not doubt a party in charge of us. Maybe the other doctor, Monty? I wish I was certain to tell you, sorry Takeo."

 

"No," interjected the other, eyes pressing heavy on Nikolai's diffident countenance, "that was more than enough, really. Thank you."

 

Tranquility remains loud.

 

"You're modest, Nikolai. I've noticed this, are you becoming unsure of our journey?" Asked Takeo.

 

"Me? Unsure? No, Takeo."

 

A large hand falls upon the warrior's arm. Gradually, the thick fingers traced down to Takeo's palm, then gently grasped.

 

"Not when I'm with you."

 

They shared sublime beams, a few sincere kisses, and muted tittering.

 

Soon they were joined by their compeers.

 

"Lovely night, yes?" Whispered Richtofen, sedentary along the saturated ground.

 

"Indeed. It seems even 'we' are enjoying it," Takeo extends his palm out to the group of little tykes, now crowding around a spot in the grass.

 

Edward rests his head onto Dempsey's arm, encircling his hands on the bicep.

 

Light cascades from the silver moon. Serene gusts escape the land. An independent zephyr makes statement across the far and wide back country. Convivial spirits share effulgence, and influence cordial efforts of holding onto each other. An amicable melody sprouts from their cores and ties close.

 

Suddenly, the small group of five start heading towards the adults, hovering over the littler Takeo in the middle of all of them. The finger slits of his clasped palms glowed bright orange. 

 

"What have you brought, children?" Asks Nikolai, eager and all smiles. 

 

With a few cooperative and encouraging jabs by the other little angels, the small child opened his hands, and proceeded to showcase a posy of light bugs; green and yellow seemed to be the dominant colors, but in the mix were blue and red ones as well. 

 

"May these wish you luck on your journey," murmured Samantha, now broadcasting a dimpled grin. 

 

The kids found it supplementary to chip in on advice and gave word or information of thanks or appreciation. Garish bugs climb the air and explode into an array of vibrant harlequin. 

 

Thick boots clicked upon the rock path towards the lawn. A chuckle had been heard.

 

"Now, don't think the children did that on their own," a soft accented voice calmly boomed to their ears, "of course, as always, I helped."

 

"You have quite the prideful attitude, don't 'cha Monty?"

Monty grinned, "I do, Tank Dempsey. I have so much pride that I named my own gumballs after myself. Quite the self-regard if you ask me." 

 

He stood with his arms folded behind his back, a broad chest, and a simper. 

 

"Though, that's not what I came to talk to you all about."

 

The children, the adults faced the "doctor." 

 

"Indeed. The little ones are not lying about your oncoming voyage. We have a slight, teensy bit of a problem. Well, not at all slight. Or teensy. I don't mean to act as the party crasher, but I need you all inside, immediately in fact."

 

Tank breathed out, "It was nice while it lasted," then gave a temporarily tense squeeze to Richtofen's shoulder.

 

"Are we going to be alright, Monty?" Queries the small Russian child.

"You are protected, my son, fear not. You have the best group in the world watching after your as― _backs_. Yes, your backs."

 

Tittering ensues, whilst Monty proceeds to usher everyone inside. 

 

Soon, the kids found their beds and makeshift pallets on the ground, subsequently dozing off into a nice slumber. Nikolai left the room from reading the kids to sleep. He joined the others downstairs.

 

"Ah, there you are Nikolai. Grown attached to the young lads, yes?"

"They seem to call me Uncle Nikolai, I'm not sure whether or not to be afraid of this or encourage it."

 

Monty and the three shared a nice guffaw, then settled for the significant news.

 

"As you all know, this house is a place of solace and opulence, yes?"

 

They nodded. Monty spoke on:

 

"Well, unfortunately, we might have to reverse the words on such a name. The safe house isn't really a _'safe house'_ anymore, you see? And, it's unfortunately your buddy old pal Maxis's mistake."

 

"Whoa, what do you mean?" Inquired the startled American.

 

Monty tapped his chin in contemplation, then nodded.

 

"Okay... uh, let's recap a bit, shall we?"

 

 

_×_


End file.
